osw logo
Back to Top

GEMINI
HIGH FLYING WRESTLER

Name

Gemini

Arcadia Designation

Nergal

Height

5'9

Weight

130lbs

Catchphrase

“I am the dusk and dawn.”

Entrance Song

“Evisceration Plague” by Cannibal Corpse

Other Aliases

The Void. Goddess of the Underworld. Pestilence. 

BIOGRAPHY
WHO ARE THEY?

Held captive for some time, Nergal, the Goddess of the Underworld, was split into two halves, a yin and yang. Light and dark have been reconstituted into her true form finally, and she has come to unleash a pestilence of Arcadia.

ENTRANCE
HIT MY MUSIC!

The driving beat of Cannibal Corpse’s “Evisceration Plague” kicks in, and Gemini appears on the stage.

Experimental pathogens, a devils design
The dark side of science breeds a weapon of war
Contagious killing and internal distress
Homicide or suicide will be the cause of death

She sneers at the crowd, creepily gliding towards the ring, rage burning in her eyes towards all who behold her.

Internal organs altered by the disease
Your brain disabled by the constant pain
Erratic actions lead my thoughts to the blade
I’ve lost control, I’ve lost control

She climbs into the ring and stands in the center. Locusts dance around her as she revels in darkness. Her head twists as her anger begins to redirect towards her opponent.

gemini’s
MOVE SET

unleashed
SPRINGBOARD TORNADO DDT

YIN
CODEBREAKER

YANG
BACKSTABBER

SUFFERING
KIMURA

THE FALL OF MAN
NERGAL SPEWS INSECTS AT HER OPPONENT.

NERGAL’S PLAGUE
A POISONED APPLE APPEARS AT HER MOUTH AND SHE SHOVES IT INTO OPPONENTS. INSECTS APPROACH. SHE HITS THE TOP ROPE AND DRIVES THE OPPONENT TO THE CANVAS WITH HER KNEES. INSECTS THEN FEAST ON THE APPLE IN THE OPPONENTS MOUTH.

ATTRIBUTES
HIGH FLYING WRESTLER

SPEED 0
POWER 0
AGILITY 0
RESILIENCE 0
TECHNICAL 0
HIGH FLYING 0
BRAWLING 0
TRICKSTER 0

RECORD
WINS, LOSSES AND DRAWS

ACHIEVEMENTS
– REWIND CHAMPION (X1)
– DOUBLE FEATURE CHAMPION (X1)

ON THE MIC!
THE BOTTOM LINE!

  • The Grove. Igor Mortis sits, bound, in front of a large tree. Gemini appears beside him. “In the heart of a desolate wasteland, there thrived a single, defiant tree,” she says, approaching the tree, “its roots grappling with the scorched earth for

  • Gemini stands amidst a desolate landscape, the sheen of its once-pristine beauty barely visible. “Once, there was a boy who dreamed of being a hero, of following in the footsteps of legends,” she says as her finger grazes a crumbling brick.

  • The camera pans across a dark, decrepit steel cage, its bars cloaked in shadows, the air thick with a sense of foreboding. The faint sound of dripping water echoes in the background. In the center, Gemini stands, her figure almost

  • “Step into the labyrinth, Tombstone.” In the dimly lit confines of her lair, Gemini, Pestilence herself, speaks with a sinister edge, her words echoing ominously through the twisted corridors of her labyrinth. “Here, in my domain, the very air breathes decay, and

  • Gemini is sat with a guitar, El Mariachi Muerte carefully placed behind her, his arms guiding hers. "Now, place your fingers upon the G-string, like that. When you play, it should sing out beautifully, like this

  • A single string moves along the screen, a harbinger of tales untold. An image fades into being atop it, a world both familiar and foreign. ONE Aarman Fidel stands at the entrance to Eden. Behind him, cloaked in shadow, Gemini's eyes shimmer

  • Illumination Antiques is a fascinating place, hosting the solemn dance of antiques, each step a ponderous waltz with time itself. Picture, if you will, a grandiose grandfather clock, its once resplendent face tarnished by the relentless march of years. Each tick a

  • Narcissa Balenciaga. Once a weaver of fabrics, now a seamstress of revolution. How quaint, the journey from the loom of vanity to the anvil of rebellion. 'Fashion' by David Bowie, a song of rhythm and satire, echoes the very essence of your metamorphosis.

  • In the shadowed corridors of time, where the whispers of history mingle with the echoes of the present, there lies a profound irony in the dance of the Antique and the Edict. The Antique, a testament to the passage of time,

  • In the theater of existence, there is a character unseen and oft forgotten: The soothsayer. Veiled in shadows, he whispers of futures untold, of paths yet to tread. His eyes, milky white, see not the world before him but the worlds within. A

  • Vengeance. A force as ancient as time itself, a pestilence that feeds on the soul, decaying the very essence of one's being. It is a disease, a blight that spreads, consuming the heart and mind, leaving nothing but a hollow shell in

  • In the woods of the Mortuary, the ACA scramble to find a way out. Mr. Kleen is stood, listening to his mop intently. Beside him, unseen to all, is Gemini… …whispering to the Mop of Justice. “In the recesses of the world's blackest

  • Picture an apple, beautifully red, tantalizingly ripe, dangling so enticingly above your head. But the core of its beauty holds a cruel manifestation of pestilence. A poisoned apple, if you will. It's a cunning little metaphor for what you've been doing, isn't it? Chasing

  • Luther, my dear, you are the epitome of audacious innocence. Always on the prowl, this thrill of the hunt coursing through your veins like venom. A sweet little game, you play. You call yourself a predator, yet I can't help but smile

  • Gemini watches the diseased beast. Once a formidable force of nature, it was now dying. “Behold, a testament of life’s cruel parody. A beast reduced to a quivering prey, much as those who have crossed me find themselves. Consumed by their

  • Ah, Narcissa, darling. The Designer. Always aspiring to create beauty, always attempting to manipulate the ugliness of the world with your stitching and sequins. Let me weave you a tale of an insect and an inferno – the moth and the flame.

  • Ah, mortals, how little you understand. You see life as a journey, a straight path on which one walks, stumbles, and hopefully learns. I view existence in a far different light. I see it not as a path, but a ladder, each

  • Somewhere in the Red District, Nergal stands over a dying man. “Gemini,” he gasps out. His faint voice echoes years of regret, of desperate choices made in the pursuit of Eden's illusions. “Did I bring this upon myself?” he asks, tremors of

  • Cloaked in the shadows of a decrepit alley, the flickering lamplight casting an eerie glow on her inhuman form, the deity Nergal cornered an unfortunate soul. A nondescript man, lost and terrified, held his breath as Gemini’s gaze pierced into

  • Once, I was content to observe the world, fascinated by your delicate balance of order and chaos. But the harmony that once intrigued me has grown discordant. Your warring spirits, veiled in deceit and exploitation, have not evolved, not learnt from

Zeus